Always Complications
by Bloutjie
Summary: Five years before the game. Altair thought that his next assassination will be like any other. But he stumbles upon a secret society when he meets someone that can escape even an expert assassin like him.


**Always Complications**

Chapter 1

**Damascus - 1186**

His muscles aced for sitting still for such a long period of time. He closes his eyes for a second, head drooping before he suddenly jerks his head back up, eyes snapping open again. He brings a hand up to his shadowed face and wipes it across his eyes, trying to stay awake. His target had entered a building a few hours ago and hasn't emerged yet. Altaïr began wondering if there wasn't another exit to the building that he missed earlier. But there couldn't have been, he's made sure that there would be no other exit to escape from.

He sighs and looks down the street; it was becoming less crowded now that dusk was starting to settle. Merchants were beginning to pack up their goods, some happy and cheerful because of some bargain they made and other gloomy and grumpy because of the opposite.

Altaïr's keen eyes scan the streets and dark alleys, trying to preoccupy himself while waiting. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a person dressed in earth-brown robes standing in the shadows of an alley. He turns his head to look at the person but is just in time to see him disappear around the corner. Shaking his head Altair turns his attention back to the entrance. But a few moments later he sees movement in the alley again and turning his head to look again he sees the person standing there and starting at him. Altaïr frowns and gets up from the bench and starts moving toward her person. Upon seeing Altair approach the figure removes a dagger from his sleeve and holds it securely in his hand.

Altaïr stops walking immediately as he sees the familiar flash of a blade and removes his short-blade from its holder on his back. He brings it up in front of him in a defensive stance while cautiously taking a step towards the mysterious figure.

"I have information you want, Assassin." The person says. The voice was so muffled that Altaïr couldn't tell if it was male or female.

"Like what?" It wasn't a question really, more like a demand.

"Well, why don't you try and find out." Came the cocky reply.

Altaïr was hesitant to act; why would someone be like this? Things went deeper than it seemed, this person was sent by someone and he wanted to find out who that was.

He shifts his weigh slightly and lunges forward, blade held out. To Altair's surprise the person manages to move out of the way with the gracefulness that only an Assassin can posses. Altaïr spins around just in time to see the person disappearing around a corner. Cursing under his breath Altaïr takes off in the same direction. Slowly he starts to gain on the person in front of him, but then to his amazement the person takes a sharp turn left and scurries up the wall to the rooftops. Without hesitation Altaïr follows, using window ledges to haul himself upwards.

As he reaches the top he spots his target; already a few rooftops away and running at an amazing speed. With a grunt Altaïr starts running after the person again; slowly gaining on him. He couldn't help but smirk; yes, his target was a good runner, but not nearly as good as him. This was his area of specialty. In front he the person-in-brown starting to slow; he must be tiring. Picking up his pace even more Altaïr starts closing the gap even quicker. The figure suddenly takes another sharp turn and drops down from the roof. Seconds later Altaïr skids to a stop and peers down, trying to see in what direction the person took. To his shock he sees no-one; the street is empty. He blinks and stares at the street again… Nothing…

"Impossible." Altaïr thinks to himself. Shaking his head he turns around and walks back. While walking he plays the events over in his head. He just can't make sense of it. Why would someone deliberately attract attention to himself and then flee? Unless… Jerking his head up he starts running, cursing at himself for being so foolish.

When he reaches the courtyard that he left in such an hurry earlier his worst fears are confirmed. The door to the house his target was in stood wide open; indicating that someone left in a great hurry.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Altaïr murmurs as he approaches house. Peering inside he finds it empty. Cursing he slams his fist into the heavy wooden door, instantly regretting it as a sharp pain shoots up his arm. Squinting he peers into the room again; it was difficult to see anything since the house had no windows and the moon was his only light source.

Deciding to take a chance he slowly enters the house, careful not to step on anything. He feels around him and finds a wooden structure. On further inspection he discovers that it's a table and feeling on the top of it he finds a large piece of paper. Carefully lifting it of the table he walks back out and holds the paper up in front of him, tilting it slightly so that it catches the light better.

It seemed to be some sort of map, but of what city he doesn't know. Folding it up the paper he carefully tucks it his belt and start's back to the Bureau.

***

With a soft thud Altaïr drops through the roof of the bureau. Getting up from his crouching position he looks around the dimply lit room before walking to the door. As he enters, The Rafiq looks up from the pot be was busy painting and smiles warmly at him.

"Ah, my friend! Your back, I was getting worried." He says in his thick Arabic accent while making gestures with his hands.

"You needed worry, Mufid; I can take care of myself." Altaïr replies tiredly as he leans forward on Mufid's desk and inspects the pot.

"I'm sure there is a reason for your absence. Did you have trouble with your mission?"

"Yeah… It was… Complicated…" Altaïr replies; he didn't know how he was going to inform the Rafiq about his failure.

"When is our work ever simple?" Mufid chuckles good humouredly, but his chuckles fade when he sees the troubled look in Altaïr's face, "Something bothering you, child?"

"I couldn't complete the assassination. The target got away." Altaïr says slowly, looking at the ground in embarrassment; this was the first time he failed an assassination.

Mufid blinks and stares at Altaïr for a moment before finding his tongue again, "Tell me about it then."

"It's a long and complicated story."

"I've got time. Start from the beginning." Mufid says as he twirls a finger in the air.

"Very well…"

***

"…And after that I found this map in the house, I haven't had time to look thoroughly at the though." Altair says as he takes out the map from his belt and hands it to Mufid. Spreading it over the table the Rafiq looks at the map thoughtfully while scratching his chin.

"Do you know of what place this map is?" Altaïr says as he leans forward to get a better look at the map.

"It seems to be the rich district of Jerusalem." Mufid replies before pointing at an encircled house, "Do you think this is where your target went?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out; I'll ride for Jerusalem tomorrow."

"I'll send a bird tomorrow morning to Jerusalem's Bureau leader informing him of your arrival."

"My thanks, Rafiq. And now if you excurse me I'm going to rest; I have a long trip tomorrow."

"Of course. Safely and peace, brother."

"Upon you as well."

But sleep didn't come easy tonight. Altaïr's mind kept wondering to the strange happenings that happened earlier that night. Who exactly was the person-in-brown? Was he working with his target or was it merely a coincidence? He closes his eyes and sighs, drifting off. What did he get himself into?

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**Authors Notes:** Please review guys! I know my past/present tences sucked in this one. Please don't flame me because of that; I'm still trying to improve.


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